


Marvel Imagines

by sinofwriting



Series: Collection of My Imagines [10]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Daughter Reader, F/M, Gen, stark reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2019-09-13 08:47:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16889370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinofwriting/pseuds/sinofwriting
Summary: These all have nothing to do with each other unless stated otherwise.





	1. Five Hours - Tony Stark

**Author's Note:**

> Daughter!Reader

Tony’s POV

“DAD! DAD!” Someone shouts, shaking me awake from my nightmare.

I shoot up to a sitting position, breathing heavy. I look to my left to see Y/N standing beside me. A worried look on her face. “Sweetheart, what’s going on? You never wake me up.”

“JARVIS told me you were having a nightmare. When I came in, you were panting and thrashing around.”

Guilt fills me immediately, knowing my daughter usually only gets three hours of sleep and it was probably ruined because of my PTSD. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Go back to bed. You need the three hours.” I tell her, glaring at her when the words, ‘three hours’ leave my mouth. Not happy that she gets less sleep than me.

She goes to the door, but pauses. “Can I stay with you? Like when I was little and I would get a nightmare. You always told me that it was the best sleep you got.”   
I chuckle, “I’m pretty sure that was the only time you would sleep for more than five hours. You’ve always been horrible when it comes to sleep.” I slide over a little, lifting the blanket slightly. “Get in.”

Y/N smiles, hopping into bed. Quickly cuddling up to me, her head resting on my chest. “I love you dad.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.” I whisper, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.


	2. Burden Me - Peter Parker

Your POV 

“Peter you alright?” I ask, concerned. Noticing he isn’t paying attention the movie.   
He gives me a weak smile, “I’m fine. Promise.”   
I narrow my eyes at him, “really? You don’t seem fine. You’ve been distracted.” 

I reach forward slightly, poking him in the ribs. Earning a yelp of pain from him. 

“Why did you do that?” He cries, scooting away.   
“You’re hurt, Peter! That’s why.”   
“Well, you didn’t have to poke me.” He mumbles. 

Ignoring him, I stand up, starting to ramble. “I mean, you being Spider-Man is amazing but, it isn’t if your getting hurt. What if you die, Peter?”   
Peter looks up at me wide eyed, quickly standing up. “How did you know I was Spider-Man?”   
I look down, not wanting to tell him how I know.   
Suddenly his hand is on my chin, making me look him in the eyes. “Y/N, I’m not mad that you know. I know you won’t tell anyone, I just want to know how.”   
“I kept on seeing Spider-Man outside my window almost every night. I just thought that there must be a lot of crime in the neighborhood. Then, that night I texted you saying I was scared because of everything going on. I noticed he was there the whole night. And you took your mask off.” I tell him.   
He blushes, stumbling over his own words. 

I guide him to the couch, making him back down. “Stay there. I’m getting my first aid kit.”   
He nods. 

I rush to my bathroom, quickly finding the large first aid kit. Grabbing the whole kit, I walk back to the living room. Putting it on the coffee table. I look to Peter, about to ask him to take his shirt, to see he already has. 

“We’ve done this too many times for you to need to ask.” He chuckles, looking up at the ceiling. “Also, shouldn’t we do this in your room in case your parents come home. I mean, you just moved. I’m pretty sure they’ll come home early to help you unpack.”   
I frown, wanting to tell Peter what was going on but, deciding to wait until later. “Don’t worry, they won’t be coming here. Late nights are a usual.” I tell him, sending him a small smile before focusing on his injuries. 

“Your lucky I want to be a doctor and have already started some medical school.” I mutter, reaching for the disinfectant.   
He hisses, as I press against a large cut. “I know. I’m just happy your aunt is willing to teach you this stuff in her spare time.”   
“Do I need to fix up what your aunt tried to do to your face? I love aunt May but, she really sucks at stitches.”   
Peter quickly protests, “I did those! I thought they came out fine.”   
I raise my eyebrows, “if you want a scar for the rest of your life.” 

Finishing up on his chest and stomach. I stand up, stretching. “Okay. Sit up.”   
Doing what I say, he sits up, grabbing his shirt and putting it back on.   
I gently as possible, remove the stitches Peter did. I frown at the cut on his forehead. “It doesn’t even need stitches.” I tell him, reaching my hand out he places the disinfectant and a cotton ball in my hand. “Thank you.”   
“Welcome.” 

It’s silent as I finish, working on the last cut. Standing up straight, I put everything away, taking the dirty cotton balls I used and throwing them away before I put away the first aid kit.

I go to the kitchen, reaching into cabinet above the fridge, I grab the large container full of candy. Walking back into the living room, I put the container in the table. Plopping down by Peter, I hand him, packet of m&m’s. 

“What would I do without you?” Peter asks.   
I smile at him, “survive.”   
He puts down the m&m’s, taking my hands in his. “No, I’m being serious, Y/N. What would I do without you? I can’t remember not having you in my life. You’ve done so much for me, been there for me. I’ll never be able to repay you.”   
“Peter, I don’t want to be repaid. You’ve been there for me just as much as I’ve been there for you.” 

He frowns, searching my eyes for something. “You’re not telling me something.”   
I sigh, trying to pull away from him but, he only holds my hands tighter. Scoring forward slightly so, our knees are touching.   
“What aren’t you telling?” He whispers, breath fanning over my face. 

My eyes flutter shut, as I feel him move slightly closer. Lips brushing the others.   
“Please.” I whisper.   
“No.” He says.   
My eyes fly open, looking at him confused and slightly embarrassed.   
“I’m not kissing you until you tell what’s going on. We’ve known about each other’s feelings for months and haven’t done anything. I’m not doing anything until we completely are truthful with each other.” 

I blink back tears, his face softening when he’s seems me about to cry. “My parents kicked me out. They bought me this apartment. They told me that they’ll pay for everything until I graduate from college and I’m in a stable situation.”   
“Y/N.”   
I pull away, his loose grip letting me. “I know. I know. It’s bad but, it’s not like I haven’t been living alone for a while. I can’t even cry about it. I only started to cry because of what you said.”   
“Why didn’t you tell me?”   
“So much stuff has been happening. I didn’t want to burden you.” I whisper, not looking at him.   
“You wouldn’t be burdening me, Y/N.”   
I look back up at him, “you sure?”   
“Positive.”


	3. Fight Like That

Your POV

Peter stares at me wide-eyed, “I didn’t know you could fight like that.” 

I huff, rolling me eyes. “Well, of course not. I work alone, Parker.” As his last name leaves my lips, I move away. 

It takes him a few seconds but, I hear him shout “how did you know my name?”

I turn my head to look at him, “how would I not? I’m a Stark.”


	4. Suit Off

Your POV

Hearing a knock on my window, I turn to look. Seeing my familiar masked best friend, I open the window.

Peter climbs in, wincing every few seconds. “Sorry, to keep you awake.” He says, shutting the window.

I shake my head, “It’s fine. I don’t usually sleep until five in the morning anyways.”

He pulls off the mask, sitting at the edge of my bed. “I know. Doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad.”

Rolling my eyes, I walk to the bathroom, yelling at him. “Suit off, I need to fix you up.”

Grabbing a washcloth, I run it under cold water. Walking back to my room, I find Peter in his usual position. Laying on his back, a pair of shorts on. I sit next to him, running the washcloth over the bruised spots.

“You’re lucky, I like you.” I tell him, placing my hand over his heart. My hand glowing for a minute as we both watch his injuries heal in the matter of seconds.

He smiles at me, “I know.” Taking the washcloth from my hand, he throws into my dirty laundry bin. He pulls me down next to him. Wrapping his arms around me, our legs intertwined, as my head lays on his chest.

I kiss the spot where his heart is, “I missed cuddling with you.”

Peter’s arm tighten, “I missed this too.” Unwrapping one arm, he pulls away slightly to cover the both of us with a blanket. “That’s better.”

“Mmm.” I start to feel drowsy, the warmth of Peter putting me to sleep.

He chuckles, his lips brushing my forehead. “Get some sleep, Y/N.”


End file.
